


Only fools rush in

by cityofflights



Category: La casa de papel | Money Heist (TV)
Genre: Angst, But also, Fluff, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Set in Season 1, Slow Burn, hostage!Martín, very gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cityofflights/pseuds/cityofflights
Summary: "Martín knew that to Andrés art and the beauty of things were some of the most important things in life. Inspired by that he’d made a poem in form of a heist plan in hopes that that would convey his affections for the other man. And so he just couldn’t understand how their little work of art had been traded by this place. How could printed paper compare to gold?"Or: The one where Martín is a hostage in the first heist
Relationships: Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa & Palermo | Martín Berrote, Berlin | Andrés de Fonollosa/Palermo | Martín Berrote
Comments: 83
Kudos: 378





	1. Chapter 1

He shouldn’t be here. Being in Spain had always meant being with Andrés, ever since the day they met. If he really thought about it every single place he had ever visited became interlined with Andrés’ presence in his mind, since he was the one who took him everywhere, showed him the world that existed outside his one-bedroom apartment in Buenos Aires.

Just like the history of the world, his life was too separated in two periods, with the existence of one man as a divider. The only problem was that his mind refused to remember the before, only the feeling of loneliness coming back to him when he tried to recall that time.  
Martín had forgotten how to live without Andrés and even after all the months, they spent apart since that night in Italy that knowledge had yet to come back to him. 

And still, he had decided to come to Spain. It wasn’t like he was expecting to find his friend roaming the busy streets of Madrid. Truth be told there wasn’t any specific reason for the trip. One moment he was sitting on his couch back in Palermo drinking milk and feeling sorry for himself and in the next the plane ticket had been already purchased.

So now here he was, trying to escape the memories only to find others in every corner, every street, every building. And in that moment all doubt that the universe was planing some kind of conspiracy against Martín evaporated from his mind. In front of him stood tall and proud the soon to be most watched architectural structure of the country. 

La Fabrica Nacional de la Moneda y Timbre. The Royal Mint. 

Because no matter how hard Martín tried to fight it everything lead back to Andrés, even unconsciously. And so, on that Friday morning, the engineer took a decision that would change his life forever, even if he didn’t knew it yet. He decided to go in.

Martín knew that to Andrés art and the beauty of things were some of the most important things in life. Inspired by that he’d made a poem in the form of a heist plan in hopes that that would convey his affections for the other man in a safe and acceptable way. And so he just couldn’t understand how their little work of art had been traded by this place. How could printed paper compare to gold? There was no art, no passion, no soul. It was a pretentious way to steal money and not feel guilty about it.  
And yet it was better than him. Better than what he had to offer. Deep down Martín knew that the rejection had nothing to do with the differences between the two plans but that explanation was easier to accept. Thinking that he lost Andrés because the love he had to offer has too much and somehow still lacking hurt simply too much so he chose to ignore the part of him that knew the truth, blaming Sergio and his ideas instead.

Being alone with his thoughts and feelings for too long has something the man had never liked, so he was quick to try and find a distraction. At first, he considered leave that damn place and go to the nearest bar but somehow getting drunk at 10 in the morning in the already miserable state he was didn’t sound like such a good idea. So he ultimately decided to follow the group of high schoolers that had just come through the doors and their guide, to maybe try and figure out what exactly about this place was so fascinating to have captured Sergio and then later the man’s older brother. He wondered if the tour included a visit to the printing machines and a 50 euros bill as a souvenir, now that would be worth his time.

In hindsight, he should have predicted that something has going to go wrong, just like every single thing in is life. Why did he think he could have a quiet and uneventful trip? No, those type of things were reserved for normal people. And Martín was a lot of things but normal was not one of them.

“To your right there’s the exposition about the history of coins and to your left-” The explanation of the guide he had been following around was interrupted by a series of gunshots and the following screams to be expected in a situation like this.

Suddenly two people in red jumpsuits and Dalí masks, armed with M-16 were directing them to the main hall. There are many qualities a good engineer must have, two of them being quick thinking and the ability to interconnect different things. Martín is a good engineer and that is why he’ll never stop feeling ashamed of the fact that it took him two full minutes to connect what was happening to Sergio and Andrés. Partially because when someone points a gun at you all your focus goes into trying not to get shot, but mostly because he refused to believe one person could have such bad luck. It was impossible. The chances of it happening were so low that it was more likely to get poisoned by sink water.

So when he was blindfolded there was still a tiny part of his brain convinced that the fact that his friends were planning to rob that place and the fact that a robbery was indeed happening in that place were 100% unrelated. And he was grasping at that hope with all the forces he had inside of him, praying to a God he didn’t believe in, pleading with the universe not to do this to him.

But Martín knew there are only two irrevocably truths to him: 

The first is that Andrés de Fonollosa is the love of his life.

And the second is that the universe hates Martín Berrote.

He gets the not needed confirmation to both of these statements when he hears a voice he never thought he would hear again.

“First of all, good morning. I’m the man in charge.”


	2. Chapter 2

The plan was brilliant. And the plan was brilliant because Sergio was brilliant. But not even with all the time in the world to think about the possible variables that could disrupt the heist he would have thought of this, it was just to messed up.

“First of all I want to offer you my apologies, this is not a good way to end your week” While making his carefully prepared speech in order to calm the hostages down and win their trust, Berlín could hear Dever and Rio going around the group asking the same question over and over again.

“Name and PIN”

He was trying to zone out the voices and whimpers around him to focus on making the best first impression a robber could make when he heard him.

“My name is Martín Berrote but I don’t have a phone”

Berlín had never been shot in the chest before but in that moment he has sure that any pain caused by that couldn’t compare to the feeling in his heart like someone had grabbed it and squeeze it all the force one could muster. Funnily enough the only time he could recall ever feeling something similar was the day he’d left Martín. The day he thought he would never see his friend again. The day he accepted that it was okay if he didn’t make it out of the Royal Mint alive.

Maybe the guilt about breaking the other man's heart that he tried to ignore and shove in a corner of his mind had finally caught up with him, causing a more physical effect than insomnia and the weird burning sensation he sometimes felt all over his body when thinking about that night. Or maybe hallucinations were a new and not advised for side-effect of his treatment. It had to be one of those things, it was impossible for Martín to be here. A quick look to the place from where the voice had came shatter all those hypotheses and hopes.

It was impossible. Martín was supposed to be in Italy healing from the wounds he inflicted, not in Spain and certainly not in the Royal Mint. Had that been a coincidence, a twisted prank from the Gods above as a form of divine punishment? Or was it all planned? Did Martín somehow found out the day Sergio had decided for the heist? Was he there to ruin it in order to get revenge? It couldn’t have been the Professor’s doing, the man himself thought Martín was unstable and a liability, he would never involve him in the mission. Berlín made a quick note in his mind to find out how his friend had ended up as one of their hostages as soon as possible. His train of thought was interrupted by Denver’s voice.

“What you mean you don’t have a phone?” He asked, a little annoyed by the attempt at fooling them not knowing Martín was actually telling the truth, having left his phone somewhere in his hotel room.

“What I mean is that I don’t have it on me right now. You get that or I have to make a little drawing?” Martín was now looking directly at the man in front of him, even with the blindfold on.

The engineer had never been the type to accept things quietly without fighting back, and it was a quality Berlín really appreciated. Unfortunately, not knowing when to let something go was another of the man’s characteristics.

The next seconds pass through Berlín’s eyes in slow motion. First Denver started with that terrible imitation of a dying hyena begging for someone to end it’s suffering or as the others liked to call it, his laugh and before anyone could react his gun was already pressed against Martín’ neck freezing Berlín’s controlled smile in his face.

“You really think you’re in the position to mess with us? I don’t think you’ve noticed what’s going on”

“I was simply answering your question Mister Thief.” Despite being held at gunpoint Martín’s face didn’t show any signs of fear and Berlin couldn’t help the rush of pride for him but this little show was scarring the rest of the hostages and it was time to stop,

“That’s enough gentlemen, if he says he doesn’t have a phone then it’s because he doesn’t. Put your toy away Denver we don’t want anyone to get hurt.” Berlín felt the 3 pairs of eyes on him after his statement. Well, more like two pairs of eyes and one blindfold.

“Why should we even believe in him?” Rio asked, his glance going from Berlín to the hostage, confusion evident in his face.

The phrase “Because I know him” was almost making its way out of the man’s throat when he managed to swallow it. As much as it pained him to admit Rio was right. Martín has a hostage and therefore couldn’t be trusted. Andrés would have trusted him with his life but Berlin couldn’t do that. Berlín had a job to do and that has all that mattered. So he had to forget everything that could possibly jeopardize it.

Including Martín.

_Specially Martín._

“Search him if you want then.”

After the search revealed Martín was telling the truth, as Berlín suspected, the plan continued without further incident. Yet the tightness in his chest refused to go away.

But ignoring and shutting down his feelings was an art he mastered long ago. It was time for the next phase and concentration was a key element. Tokyo, Rio, Nairobi and Denver were positioned in front of the doors waiting for the police in order to go outside.

“Two minutes.” Berlín repeated the information The Professor had given him while looking around.

Something caught his eye, a blindfold thrown on the floor. His trained eyes rapidly recognize which hostage it belonged to.

“Put your blindfold back on” He had no intentions of arguing with Martín in front of everyone so he turned around to face the doors and his colleagues.

“Let me go” The voice daring to disobey his orders was now closer so he moved to face it once more, standing eye to eye with Martín.

The engineer’s eyes had always been one of Andrés’ favourite part of Martín. They were, completely objectively speaking, one of the most compelling works of art he had ever seen. The way they showcased every bit of emotion, the way they lit up every time he came up with new ideas for their plans, the way they were a not a window but a door to Martín’s soul, open and inviting. Those eyes who once held only love and adoration when their gaze was directed to Andrés now looked at Berlín with nothing but hurt, as if the simple act of standing in front of him caused physical pain.

“Go back to where you were”

“No, I wa- I need to leave.” His voice became quieter almost a whisper “I know what’s about to happen and I don’t think I can go through it. Please Andrés”

_I miss hearing my name in your voice_

“Don’t call me that” he said instead.

“Okay Berlín then, let me go, I don’t know what you think but this isn’t some kind of plot to ruin the heist it’s just a fucked up coincidence”

“I can’t let you go, all hostages stay inside until it’s time to leave”

At this point, the first signs of rage started showing in Martín. A little more redness in the face, fists closed, his eyes darkening to a greyer shade.

“I am not some hostage”

_No, you’re not._

“Yes, you are.”

“Please you know you don’t want me here” Martín’s pleas were getting harder to ignore, the desperation evident with every word.

“I-”

Their conversation got cut by the ringing sounds of shots fired. Berlín had to focus, he couldn’t let a distraction put everything at risk.

“Mr Berrote I suggest you go back to your place, I would prefer if none of you got shot.” His newfound indifference caused the expected reaction and Martín went to stand amongst the hostages once again, something akin resignation dancing in his features. It didn’t matter if hurting his best friend was the price to pay for everything to work out. He was getting quite good at that after all.

Afterwards, when everyone else was busy screaming at Tokyo for fucking up and shooting an officer, he took one last moment and allow himself to be Andrés and thought of the words he wanted to scream at the top of that goddamn building but also whisper into his soulmate’s ear. For one moment he imagined a world where those words you make a difference.

_I’m sorry. I love you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the beginning, my plan was to write everything from Martín's perspective but I find Berlín very interesting and wanted to try and write from his perspective as well. I do apologize if he sounds a bit OOC but I thought the fandom needed a break from all the angst so I'm trying to make him a little softer. I hope you enjoy it


	3. Chapter 3

Unbelievable. The heist hadn’t even really started and one of Sergio’s  _ acquaintances  _ had already been almost shot. Where had the mastermind found these incompetents, Craigslist? 

Martín was clearly smarter than most of them and the fact that both Sergio and Andrés knew this and yet still refuse to let him be part of the team stung more than he was willing to admit.

Dressing the hostages in the same red jumpsuits as the captors and giving them fake guns had been one of Martín’s favourite part of the plan back when he first heard it, still in its embryonic form. It was such a simple move but it managed to send the police into a loop, making them lose precious time while the printing machines started working at all force. 

He could hear them from the office Andrés, no  _ Berlín,  _ he corrected himself. From the office, Berlín locked in as soon as he was able. Thinking of the man as anything but Andrés left a sour taste in the back of this mouth but the rules he had been presented with earlier and was expected to follow if he didn’t want to end tied up in the basement of the building only moving to go to the bathroom for the next 12 days were very clear: 

  1. **Pretend no to know him**. That meant no mentions of his true name, or Sergio’s for that matter, which meant he had to get used to referring to his- to him as the capital of Germany. It also meant no lingering looks or murderous glares. He had oscillated a lot between the two in the first few hours.



  1. **Pretend not to know the plan**. Martín had enough information about what was going to happen in the next days in order to mess something up. He wouldn’t do anything to help the police, he wasn’t a rat after all, but maybe a little hostage riot could be organized just as a form of revenge for not letting him get out of here when he asked. Unfortunately, it seemed that in the months they’ve been apart Berlín hadn’t lost his ability to know every thought in Martín’s head before he could even formulate them into coherent sentences. So he had been taken to his current location, an empty office somewhere on the second floor, as “damage prevention”. Which lead him to the third rule.



  1. **Don’t try to ruin the plan.** This one had been followed by a stern look, meant to scare him into compliance. When that did nothing to erase the smirk and defying look of his face Berlín had advanced to a more effective way of convincing which include Martín’s body being pressed against the wall, and a whisper in his ear that got lost along the road to his brain due to the close proximity of the other man. But in that moment Martín didn’t feel anger or fear. What he truly felt was disgust. At the way his every nerve responded to the other man’s touch as if it was a lover’s embrace. At the way all he wanted to do was take Andrés’ face in his hands and kiss him, over and over again until time and space ceased to exist leaving only them behind. At the way, he was willing to beg for forgiveness as if he was the one who had done something wrong, the one to blame for the tragic end of their story. His eyes must have betrayed how he felt because in the next second Berlín had already stepped away from him looking almost apologetic.



“Please” he had said, “Don’t ruin my brother’s life work because you hate me.”

_ “I could never hate you so he’s all I got to pin the blame on, besides me that is”  _ Martín had considered admitting but the words seemed to have dug its claws at his throat making it impossible for them to come out. What came out instead was in no way less true than the original statement.

“Don’t worry, nothing will fail because of me. But I don’t promise not to have a little fun if I get too bored” 

That settled the discussion, even earning him a small but honest smile from Berlín. Not that he cared. Because he didn’t. Nop, not even a little. Seeing Andrés sm-  _ dammit _ seeing Berlín smile because of him didn’t provoke any type of reaction. The turning he felt in his stomach thinking about it was simply due to the fact that he hadn’t had a decent meal in over 24 hours. That bastard was not deserving of something so delicate and romantic as butterflies. But that was most definitely not what Martín was feeling because as soon as he had heard Berlín’s voice claiming he was in charge of the heist he had made a decision, a promise to himself. 

He was going to stop being in love with the Andrés. If only the man in question didn’t make his job so hard.

And so Martín remembered the final rule imposed

  1. **Don’t antagonize any of the other city named robbers.** That rule would prove to be almost as difficult as pretending not to know Berlín since the most fun a person could have in that cage was mess with the thieves. Berlín explained as if talking to a child, that making fun of armed and not exactly stable people was not a smart move.



“One of them could hurt you if don’t learn to keep your mouth shut. Just looked what happen with Denver over the phone”

If Martín didn’t know better he would have thought that he was actually concerned for his well being. Of course he probably just didn’t want to explain to Sergio that Martín had a bullet hole as a new fashion accessory for asking Rio if his kindergarten teacher knew he was missing playtime to be there or for telling Tokyo all the ways he had already noted she was an idiot.

“Oh so suddenly you care if people hurt me? You didn’t show that much concern when you were breaking my heart” 

The words weren’t meant to leave Martín’s mouth but honestly, Berlín’s whole attitude towards him was a little infuriating, acting like he was a kid who needed to stay away from the adults’ conversations.

“Martín, I know my ways of showing it are not the best but I care about you” Berlín had avoided his eye looking at everywhere but him. 

Martín had a lot he wanted to say in that moment but nothing sounded right so he just went inside the office Berlin had led him to and waited for the other man to lock the door behind him. 

He was still in the same spot, now hearing not only the printing machines but a voice he recognizes as Nairobi screaming every now and then. Martín is pulled from his thoughts by the sounds of the unlocking door.

“I bought you dinner” He knew Berlín didn’t like to waste his time with activities like feeding the hostages so he was probably there for something else. Martín’s suspicions were soon confirmed.

“I want to talk to you,” he said sitting down next to him on the floor, handling the bag with a sandwich and a water bottle “about this situation”

“I understood your rules very well Berlín I don’t need to hear them again” he spat the name the other insisted on having with all the disdain we could muster. It just didn’t sit right with him.

“It’s not that. Look I’m sorry I locked you up here alone but you know too much, I can’t just leave you with all the others. Besides, you needed to cool down or you were going to do something stupid. No don’t try to deny it I know you too well. But there are a few women who didn’t feel alright so I send them to another office. You’re welcome to join them.” Berlín tried to keep a cold and unattached toned but the warm side glances he kept giving Martín contradicted the rest of his demeanour.

“So instead of being locked up alone, you want me to be locked up with a bunch of women. I didn’t know you hated me that much.” It felt good to joke around like they were back to their normal selves. If only it was true.

He made a move to stand up when he felt Andrés’ hand on his own, sending shivers up his arm.

“Martín wait,” he said not letting go of his hand.

Andrés seemed to have forgotten what he was going to say as they kept staring into each other eyes for what felt like an eternity and the shortest of seconds at the same time. His friend finally broke their gaze but only to focus on another part of his face, a few centimetres lower. His lips. Andrés was looking at his lips. And he was getting closer, leaning in just a bit but enough to be noticeable.

So Martín did what every reasonable gay person would do when faced with the same situation: he panicked.

“So where are those women you were talking about?” He said, standing up so fast it was a miracle he didn’t end up right back on the floor

“What wom- Ah yes if you could follow me”

Berlín tried to get out of the room as soon as possible but Martín still caught a glimpse of his expression. Something between disappointment and relief. 

Martín was still trying to understand what had happened when he reached the other office, where there were 5 women already steaded. He looked back to see Berlín but was met with the not so lovely expression of one of the Serbians in the group.

“You sit” And so he did because although Martín didn’t really think one of them would shot him it was better not to try it out.

And as he recalled the events of the day he decided that his promise of stoping to be in love with Andrés could wait another day, just so he didn’t feel guilty when he dreamed of brown eyes and warm lips as he knew he would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, I'm really happy to know you're liking this story and I love to read your thought about it


	4. Chapter 4

Emotions were stupid and useless, all they ever did was stand in the way of rationality and critical thinking. Berlín had a clear plan of action when he entered the office where Martín was in.

Get in.

Give him dinner.

Wait until he eats it.

Take with to another room so he wasn’t all alone.

It was so simple even Denver could have followed it without messing anything up. But when he grabbed Martín’s hand on an impulse to tell him something, anything that would keep him next to him for just a moment longer all thoughts and plans got lost. Andrés always felt like comparing blue eyes to the ocean was a cheap and overused metaphor, couldn’t understand how some people defined their love as “drowning”. Despite that, he would be lying if said that an equally foolish comparison didn’t cross his mind when Martín sat back down without taking his eyes off him. In that instant, they reminded him of Uranus, the blue giant ball of gas orbiting the sun, the only planet spinning horizontally instead of vertically. Because as much as Andrés tried to keep everything in his life in order and aligned, Martín always found a way of escaping and changing his plans. 

But as enchanting as the man’s eyes were there was another feature of his face Andrés found particularly _interesting,_ so he let his gaze wander a little lower until he founds Martín’s lips. So if his eyes were Uranos then his lips had to be Jupiter, for the planet had the biggest gravitational pull of the solar system. And so, inevitably, Andrés was slowly being pulled into its orbit.

“So where are those women you were talking about?” Martín’s startled voice pulled him out of his astronomic ramble. The man was now on the other side of the room, having put as much distance as possible in the closed space between the two of them. It was obvious that he was embarrassed, the colour in his cheeks growing warmer, but at least he didn’t seem angry at Andrés for what had almost happened. 

  
  
  


It was clear to see that he needed to train how to maintain the control around Martín, the ability that once came to him as easily as breathing was now rusty due to lack of use. Or maybe he could just avoid being alone in the same room with him until the end of the heist although that wasn’t a very likely option. He probably just needed to rest for a few hours, his sleep-deprived brain was starting to imagine ridiculous things, bringing to the surface what he so carefully buried in the deeps of his mind, making him think in absurd cliches. And what was he thinking almost kissing Martín? That was just wrong.

“Focus on the plan”, he repeated to himself the word that had become a mantra after taking a deep breath, ordering his thoughts to stray from the engineer.

“Who are you talking to?” Nairobi asked making her presence in the hall known.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business” 

The last thing Berlín needed has for companions to find out who Martín really has hence why it wasn’t a good idea to let him be with the other hostages where he would be exposed to all kinds of threats since it was impossible for the man to shut up. It was only a matter of time until Martín told someone about his connection to Berlín.

There were only two possible outcomes for the situation from Berlín’s point of view. He knew some of the others didn’t like him at all and would undoubtedly use Martín to try and get to him. Or they would consider the other man a threat to the plan because of his knowledge. In the latter scenario what really worried him was Sergio’s reaction and what he would do if he thought Martín was trying to ruin the plan.

Those would be setbacks, obstacles which would only achieve a waste of their time. 

“You could be talking with your imaginary friend for all I care. The Professor in on the phone, he wants to talk to you” She’s gone before he can answer.

  
  


“It’s Berlin,” he picks up the phone and sits down getting comfortable “what do you need?”

“I was reading the official list of hostages Rio sent me and I would like an explanation for something I found” His voice is strained and even without seeing him Berlín can imagine his brother’s face, the one he makes when he’s trying not to lash out.

“If there’s a problem with the list you should talk to Rio then” he tried to keep his tone firm and unaffected

How could he have been so stupid? Of course, Martín’s name was going to be on the list, how didn’t he thought of it? This was all Martín fault, messing with his head, not letting him think clearly. The man was a problem for him. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it.

“Berlín you know exactly what I’m talking about. Why is Martín there?”

“For what I can gather it was a coincidence”

“A coincidence” he could hear the low chuckle that did nothing to conceal the anger through the line “you really believe that? C´mon, you’re smarter than that.”

“Martín doesn’t want to be here, in fact, he wanted to leave when he realized what was happening but I wouldn’t let him because despite what you may think I can control my feelings. And I’ve talked to him, he’s not going to do anything to ruin the heist.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about, it’s him. Berlin, he hates us” Those words were not new to him, having thought about them back in Toledo in the countless nights sleep would refuse to come, but hearing from a voice different than the one in his head felt like a punch in the stomach. “So you can’t let him go because he would go to the police and it’s better if you keep him apart from the other hostages”

“I’m three steps ahead of you Professor, already did that”

“One more thing. Do whatever you need to do to make sure he’s on our side,” there was a pause before he continued “If he _tries_ something just… go with it. We don’t want to give him more reasons to be mad at us”

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Berlin could feel the anger starting to run in his veins “You want me to prostitute myself? Or maybe just give him enough hope that we can have a future together so he doesn’t turn on us? And then what, tell him that I don’t need him anymore, he can go? Is that what you want me to do?”

“Yes. Haven’t you done it before?” The Professor was left without an answer as Berlin slammed the phone back in its holder. It was impossible to try and change Sergio’s mind when he was in full heist master mode.

He would call him to reason latter. Playing mind games with Martín could be of some use but he wasn’t the coldhearted bastard even his own brother thought he was. Hurting Martín had been the hardest decision he had to make in his life and he would never purposefully do it again. Not even to save the heist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked Sergio's appearance in his bitch mode! If you're liking the story please leave a comment


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the encouragement you've been giving me, I'm really glad you like it so far! I hope you like this chapter, and if you do please leave a comment

Being a hostage was boring. The most exciting thing that happened all day was the sound of two gunshots some minutes ago. The women he was locked up with could hardly classify as a worthy company and the man who guarded them had spoken the impressive amount of 18 words during all the wonderful time they’d spent together. And so Martín was happy for the change of scenario when Tokyo showed up at the door shortly after the pregnant lady he hadn’t bothered to learn the name of had left with Denver, saying Olso was needed somewhere else. Maybe this one could form sentences that didn’t consist of one-word responses.

Everyone else in the room was quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional whimpers. It was driving Martín crazy so he took it upon himself to strike up a conversation with the only slightly interesting presence, aside from him, of course.

“This plan of yours is very clever, if I may say so,” he stretched his legs which were starting to cramp from sitting in the ground for too long. Berlín had told him not to annoy the other robbers but he was just making friendly conversation as a way to pass the time and therefore wasn’t breaking any stupid rules. Besides he was itching to know exactly how much they knew about Sergio. He wasn’t inside the Royal Mint but Martín hadn’t expected him to go in anyways. There was always some else to do the dirty job “Which one of you geographic wonders came up with it?”

His jest didn’t seem to amuse Tokyo, the “Shut up” coming without as much as a glance in his general direction.

“You lock us up and can’t even do me the courtesy of answering a few questions? I’m just curious that’s all.” He wasn’t scared for his life but he knew Sergio and he also knew the man was a bit paranoid, probably associating Martín’s presence there with some evil scheme to ruin his plan. He wasn’t sure how far the other man was willing to go if he thought Martín posed a threat for the heist but the lack of bullet holes adorning his skin was somewhat reassuring.

“Fine, I’ll answer you. It wasn’t our idea. It was someone else, but he isn’t here” Her face indicated that their little chat was over but still Martín insisted a bit more, wanting to know if there was a way he could contact Sergio to let him know him being a hostage was a coincidence. He had already told that to Berlin but still, it was better to talk directly with him.

Martín put his most innocent face before asking the next question

“Oh, so he stayed outside. Then how do you talk with him?”

Apparently it was innocent enough because the next thing he knew there was a gun pointed at his head.

“Are you a cop?” Of all the things he expected her to say that wasn’t one of them, but thinking back at his inquiry it did sound suspicious for a hostage to be doing all those questions.

“Excuse me? Do I look like a cop to you? Please don’t insult me” 

“Then why are you making all these weird questions? Trying to get information to tell the police?” The gun continued aimed at his forehead, the girl getting down until she was face to face with Martín.

“And how exactly am I going to tell the police anything? Maybe a carrier pigeon will do the job” He said ending his remark with a lopsided grin showing her he wasn’t scared of her.

Tokyo’s response was cut by a deep voice coming from the door. “Lower your gun Tokyo”

Both heads turned immediately to face Berlin and the gun stopped being a hazard to Martín’s health as she put it away with a sour expression.

“So now you care about the hostages’ lives? Because it didn’t seem like it an hour ago. This guy is making suspicious questions about The Professor, I was just trying to understand why.”

Berlin’s attention shifted to him as he got closer. Before he could make sense of Tokyo’s accusation the other man spoke again, “I will talk to him them. You, my office” And he got in the door on the opposite side from the one he had come in from, leading to a more secluded part of the room.

As Martín followed him inside he couldn’t stop feeling like a schoolboy in trouble, being called to the principal’s office. None of the men noticed the curious glance Tokyo send their way wondering why the same man that order the execution of a hostage for having a cellphone was being so  _ soft  _ on someone who, for all they knew, could be trying to screw them over.

  
  


“Do you want to explain what was that all about?” The moment the door closed behind him Berlin’s calm demeanour changed completely, the cynical smile he held in place while talking to Tokyo falling from his face “What did I say about annoying the other robbers? Don’t you ever listen to me? And what was that about you asking questions regarding Sergio? She could have shot you if she thought you were fishing for information to give the police” 

He was frantic, barely taking breaths in between sentences, his voice getting louder and louder. The people on the other side were bound to hear everything if he kept talking that way so Martín acted on impulse, grabbing both of his friend’s arms and pulling him to stand in front of him.

“Hey, calm down. Nothing happened.” The gestured and Martín soothing voice had the desired effect as Andrés stopped his rant. When the man’s eyes landed on the hands still gripping is forearms Martín stepped back as if the touch had burned him.

“Just because I showed up in time.” Even tho his tone was more controlled now, the worry was still evident in his face and Martín wondered for a second if that worry meant something more but he hushed those illusions away. 

“I promise I won’t ask anything else, to anyone. But you have to let me talk to your brother.”

“Absolutely not.” It left no room to discussion and a weaker man would have bowed down to his will.

“I need to tell him I won’t ruin the plan.” Martín took one step closer to him. He would not obey his every order without questioning it. Those days were in the past.

“He already knows Martín. I won’t let anything bad happen to you while we’re here.” His voice was now softer, a quiet caress to his ears. He too took one step closer to Martín

“Because keeping the hostages alive is a fundamental rule?” 

“Because I ca-” The sentence was cut short by the phone ringing on the desk, breaking the spell they were under.

Berlín stepped back to answer the phone but instead of taking it to his ear he extended his hand offering the device to Martín, “Make it quick”

He didn’t need to be told twice, grabbing it immediately “Sergio”

“Martín,” he didn’t sound surprised that it wasn’t his brother’s voice answering the call “how are you?”

“ _ Bien,  _ I just want you to know that I’m not inside to ruin anything.”

“Okay, I know and I believe you” The reply came without missing a beat.

“No, I’m serious I- Wait you said you believed me?” He was expecting more resistance in accepting that he was being sincere and when he looked at Berlin the other mouthed an “I told you so” accompanied by an eye roll

“Hum, okay then. Bye, I guess.” he handed the phone back to Berlin, still slightly confused about the whole exchange. He seized the opportunity to escape the confined space, not trusting himself to spend another minute alone with the man he was, unfortunately, still very in love with. The whole situation of the heist was stressing enough without the little touches and moments that happened every time the two were alone.

And since his first plan was clearly failing (turns out you can’t fall out of love that easily), Martín decided to move on to plan B: never, under any circumstances, be alone with An-. With Berlin. He should have known that, just like plan A, this too was bound to fail.


	6. Chapter 6

Everything was going according to the plan. Well, almost everything. If he didn’t count Monica’s execution then he could consider the heist mostly successful up until that point. Even the bullet the cops had put in that poor excuse of a man otherwise known as Arturito had been helpful. Now they had a Trojan Horse, one more advantage over the police.

As Berlin walked through the halls of the factory he felt the familiar shakes in his hands, reminding him that he hadn’t taken the day’s medicine yet, so he got inside the nearest office closing the door behind him.

As he sat down he recalled the scene he had walked in on when he went to check on Martín. The sight of Tokyo’s gun pressed into his dear friend’s head had boiled his blood, the urge to use one of his own bullets to decorate the wall with her insides barely suppressed. He had muster all his self-control to keep a collected expression while talking to Tokyo but as soon as he was alone with Martín the facade disappeared into thin air.

Berlin was erratic, his brain firing thousands of possible scenarios per second, each leading to the same ending: a bullet through Martín’s skull. The hands gripping his arms stopped the riot in his mind, gratefulness for the reassuring touch replacing the blind panic. In that moment the feelings he so desperately had tried to get rid of, because he was a professional and things such as lo- such as care didn’t have a place there, came rushing to the surface, the confession to Martín already halfway out before he could process what was happening. It was a miracle, (or a misfortune said the little voice in his head that sounded quite similar to Martín), that Sergio had called at that moment. When Berlin ended the conversation and put the phone down the other man was no longer there with him, having made his escape while he talked to the Professor. He couldn’t help the pang of disappointment to have their alone time cut short but it was probably for the best.

The more he tried to focus on his tasks and the heist, the more his thought wandered to Martín. Everything reminded him of the engineer and the years they spent together, being an invincible team. From the way, none of the other robbers seemed to understand him to the glass container in his hand, the one with the drug which allowed him to live a life 5% less miserable. The damned disease that kept them apart, the truth behind his bullshit mitochondrial speech, the only part of him Martín didn’t know about.

So maybe shutting down his feelings wasn’t the best approach, since they insisted on not going away. The “Focus on the heist, don’t think about Martín” strategy was proving to be more difficult to follow than he initially planned. It wouldn’t have been a problem if was anywhere but here. Or at least it would have been a smaller problem. He needed another plan of action.

Realizing the syringe with the medicine was still in his hold he brought it closer to his hand, figuring it was best to do it before someone came looking for him. The door was suddenly open, preventing the needle to come in contact with his skin. Berlin quickly hid the proof of what he had been doing before facing Tokyo.

After her speech filled with threats which only served to annoy him even further and increased the urge to shot her, and the phone called to his brother in which he admitted to killing Monica, Berlin was finally able to take his medicine in peace. There was still some time left before he had to change guard with Helsinki to watch the hostages but instead of using the precious minutes to sleep he went against his better judgement and made his away to the second floor of the building. Maybe if he got some things out of his chest, he could also take Martín out of his mind.

When he got in, Berlin took a moment to observe his surroundings before coming to rest on the red velvet armchair, positioned to overlook the room. To his left, there was a long couch, occupied by the five women who didn’t feel so good. He could see them flinch when they noted his presence, a low whimper escaping from one of them. They bored him, it wasn’t because of them that Berlín had come. The real reason for his visit sat at his right, cross-legged in some sort of tall cushion. He never understood what was Martín’s problem with chairs and sitting like a normal person. He tried to catch his gaze but the man kept his eyes stubbornly aimed at the wall, somewhere above one the woman’s head.

“I have to come here more often, it’s so quiet” he started, looking straight ahead which allowed him to notice every movement to his side by the corner of his eye, “Outside everything is so complicated”

He told them how he had Monica killed, expecting some kind of reaction from Martín, either disgust or understanding, but his gaze continued fixed on the same spot. But when he started to talk about his conversation with Sergio, about feelings and how differently he felt emotions he caught the small movement of his hand, coming to grip the soft material of the red jumpsuit.

“You see, I don’t feel pain or guilt about this woman’s death, not like my friend does. I don’t understand how he can feel such things towards someone he never met.” Martín still refused to look at him but his face was no longer a blank sheet. He was starting to let show how he was feeling. A mixture of confusion, hurt and hope. He tried to hold on to the last one as he continued, his gaze now fixed in Martín, beyond the point of caring about the other people in the room or what they could think. It was reckless but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “You may think I don’t have emotions but that is simply not true.”

He took a deep breath before continuing and the gestured was reflected no Martín’s chest, proving to Andrés once again what he already knew, they were two halves of the same soul.

“I feel, pain, guilt, excitement,  _ love _ ” as the words left his body so did Martín’s gaze towards the wall, coming to rest on his face, probably looking for any clues indicating what was happening. He wouldn’t find any, of course, because not even Andrés knew exactly what he was doing. “I feel these things, just not for every random person I cross paths with, no only a few special ones.” 

Everyone around him disappeared leaving only Martín and the thundering beat of his heart, their eyes never leaving each other. He couldn’t even remember where he was trying to go with his speech when he started it, all he wanted to do was recited a fucking love letter to the man in front of him.

“So I may not feel guilty about Miss Gaztambide, but that doesn’t mean I don’t regret other things I’ve done.” The understanding in Martín’s eyes was a relief to him, contrasting deeply with the looks of pure confusion written on the ladies’ faces. His brilliant engineer had figured out what Andrés was trying to say, just like he knew he would. It wasn’t in no way a proper apology but maybe now that somethings were out in the open he would be able to focus more on the heist, his mind more at peace. What a fool he was for thinking that. 

He left the room once again, but not before gifting Martín with a small smile. He could see the unshed tears in his eyes and felt a tug in his heart, but it eased as Martín returned the smile.

Things were starting to look good. He should’ve known it wouldn’t last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your support on this, it means the world to me!!


	7. Chapter 7

Martín didn’t quite believe in what he had just heard, the words leaving Andrés’ mouth like something out of his recurring dreams. When the man had entered the room Martín was set on ignoring him, fixing his eyes on the wall. But it had been impossible, he didn’t stand a chance. Not when the things he hopelessly waited so long to hear were finally becoming a reality. There was much left unspoken but Martín was used to read between the lines and fill the gaps in Andrés’ speech.

The thundering sound of his heart hammering in his chest, who refused to calm down even after his departure, drowned the whispers coming from the other side of the room. His annoying  _ roommates _ kept stealing glances at him, the confused expressions in their faces leaving Martín satisfied, for none of them realized the magnitude of what had just happened, their minds unable to understand the true nature behind the thieve’s words.

Although Martín knew Andrés was apologizing, he too was left a bit confused, not about the man’s speech but its intention. Was Andrés trying to set things straight between them, giving Martín a proper apology before disappearing with millions of euros and a clean conscience? Or was it a gateway for what he truly wanted to say, for what Martín longed to hear?

Had it happen a few months ago Martín would circle around the two options, exhausting every possibility and outcome, but all inside his mind, never daring to ask Andrés the meaning of his words, preferring to suffer in silence with his questions. But not now. Now he wouldn’t let himself be consumed by the doubts assaulting his thoughts and clouding his judgment. He couldn’t handle to have hope just for it to be crushed by Andrés once again. So he made the decision, for once in his lifetime to confront the problem and ask what the hell was happening.

The opportunity arose when, at night, Nairobi came in to give them their dinner. She was handling Martín his share of pizza when he spoke up, hoping she wouldn’t be as short-tempered as her colleague Tokyo.

“Excuse me, can I talk to Berlin” He did all he could to talk in a respectful and calm way, knowing his usual way of addressing women wouldn’t take him very far.

She eyed him suspiciously before replying. “Why?”

“Because I have something to discuss with him.” With all the time he had had to come up with a plan one would’ve expected that Martín had a plausible reason for wanting to talk with the man in charge of the heist thoughted out. But between the nerves making its presence noticeable in the pit of his stomach and rehearsing what he was actually going to say that minor detail slipped his mind. The panic inside him was starting to grow but the only answer he got from Nairobi was an exhausted sigh and a “Pray he’s in a good mood”

Martín followed Nairobi through the corridors of the building until they reached one of the workers’ office. She was halfway to grab the door handle but stopped, opting to knock instead. 

“You can come in” Upon hearing Berlín’s voice, Nairobi opened the door and gestured for Martín to go in. He didn’t need to be told twice.

The image in front of him made him stop in his tracks. Andrés had his back turned to where Martín had entered, facing the television that proudly displayed the face of the man standing in front of him.

“They know who you are” It wasn’t a question, more of a useless statement. It was obvious the police had information about his identity, the news broadcast making sure it was passed along to the whole world.

And so, without turning around Andrés explained everything that went down in the past hours. From the fingerprints, the police had found, to the apparently false execution of Monica Gaztambide. When he has done, he finally turned around and Martín saw for the first time since he arrived there Andrés’ face, a mixture of cold anger and resentment.

“And now they’re making up all the stories and accusations, they claimed I sold women Martín.” And just like that, the man let his mask slip and Berlin became Andrés. His shoulds slumped down as if caving in from the weight of making sure everything went according to plan. He looked so tired all Martín wanted to do was lay him down so he could grab some sleep. “They’re ruining my reputation”

“Is that anything I can do?” Andrés looked away once again from the monitor still showing his picture shifting his attention to Martín.

“Come over here” He complied with the request crossing the few meters separating them, coming to stand in front of Andrés.

After a few seconds of silence, Martín was about to repeat the question when Andrés resumed talking.

“I assume you’re here to talk about the things I said the last time I saw you right?” His tone was soft, reminding him of the way they used to be like before everything burned to ashes.

“Yes but I see it’s not a good time, we can talk later” Despise his words Martín stayed glued to the same spot.

“Is there such a thing as a good time during the biggest heist of the century?” The remark was punctuated by one of Andrés’ trade smirks. “We may as well just do it now. I suppose you have questions for me?”

“Just one actually.” Their conversation was now only a hair above whisperings and somehow it felt more intimate than all the encounters he had in those past months with faceless men whose names Martín couldn’t remember.

“What is it then?”

Martín took a deep breath before continuing, wondering if he really wanted to know the answer. 

“What happens after this?” When Andrés didn’t respond he elaborated his concerns “Do you run away and I never see you again? Or do I- Will I know where you are?”

“I thought you only had one question.” he said after Martín was finished.

“Fuck off”

“I’ll be honest, my plan was to never see you again because it was what was best for you. To get away from me. But I’m selfish Martín, I’m selfish and seeing you here isn’t helping me ignoring the fact that I need you near me.” Andrés’ words warmed him inside, filling the empty space in his chest.

“How could that be the best for me? Is it because I’m in love with you? I can handle rejection Andrés. It’s harder to accept abandonment disguised by half-truths.” All the things he had swallowed and bottled up on that fateful night were finally making their way out. He felt so relieved to have the opportunity to state his side, his perspective. To make Andrés understand him. “So you tell me, here and now, why did you leave.” The _ please don’t lie to me _ was left unsaid but he hoped the other man could still hear it.

The only answer Martín got has the press of Andrés’ lips against his, shy and tender, so unlike their previous kisses but in no way filled with less love. It was over before he could truly process what had happened. He leaned forward to kiss him again but stopped at the sight of André’s eyes filled with tears so he moved one of his hands into his neck instead, pulling him against his chest, holding him close hoping he could fix whatever was broken. Martín couldn’t tell how long they stayed like that, with him caressing Andrés’ hair and whispering words of comfort while the other man broke down in his arms, the first time he did so without any alcoholic influence.

And so the fact that the answer to his question never came passed miles away from Martín’s mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry this chapter took so long but I got a bit overwhelmed with school work, that being said I want to thank everyone who has been reading this story, giving kudos, commenting and just overall supporting it. I hope you continue to like it!

He was a coward. Martín had presented him with the perfect opportunity to finally explain everything, explain why he did what he did, to tell him the whole truth once and for all. And yet the words hadn’t managed to make its way out of his chest, he just couldn’t bring himself to destroy the hope that was slowly clawing its way back into Martín’s eyes.

So instead of telling him that he was a dead man walking, he had kissed him. It was wrong it would only hurt Martín even more once he found out about his disease, but Andrés’ selfishness hadn’t cared for that. All he needed was to have Martín close, although he would be lying if he said he hadn’t used the kiss to distract the other man from his inquiry.

Andrés had always prided himself in being strong. Almost nothing could ever affect him, and when something did he was extremely effective in hiding it. Yet all his defences came crumbling down whenever Martín was around. He couldn’t stop the tears flooding his eyes at the sight of the man leaning in to kiss him again. There were no words changed between them and yet Martín did exactly what Andrés needed. He made him feel safe, pulling him against his chest and protecting him from the real world. The slow caresses and soft whispers were more than Andrés deserved, more than he could ever be worthy of, he was well aware. That didn’t stop him from breaking down in the arms of his other half, letting years of bottled up emotions wash away and soak Martín’s grey shirt.

He lost track of the time they spent wrapped up around each other, and the next thing he knew Nairobi was back at the office door, her knocks more sure and loud than before.

“Berlin, the chat his over, it’s time for plan Valencia,” the voice outside said but made no move to open the door keeping him from reality.

Andrés moved to wipe the tear tracks still marking his cheeks but Martín beat him to it, gently erasing the evidence of his sadness. He wanted to say something, to thank him or apologize but his breath got stuck when Martín moved again, this time bringing his lips into contact with his forehead. Andrés felt like crying all over again from the softness of the touch.

“Plan Valencia, that’s proof of life right?” the question was whispered against his face and the only answer Andrés could offer was a nod.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to report something to the cop they send in” panic would be already flowing through his veins if not for the playful edge in Martín’s voice, so he went along with it.

“And what is it? Should I be worried?”

“Maybe. What’s the penalty for stealing hearts?” Andrés rolls his eyes at the ridiculous attempted at romanticism but he can’t stop the small smile that makes its way into his face nor the strange warmth settling into his chest.

“You have the seduction skills of 14-year-old  _ cariño _ ”

The endearment term comes naturally to him and the slight rose colour that appears in Martín’s face makes up for any awkwardness he might feel. 

Inspector Murillo is far more interesting than the cops he’s used to dealing with and while it’s fun to antagonizer he just can’t put his whole attention towards it. Because a part of his brain, a rather big part it feels like, keeps insisting that Martín should be the only thing occupying his thoughts. He keeps shifting between feelings of guilt and love.

He doesn’t recognize himself. 

He’s not exactly mad about it.

The faces in front of him blur together, and maybe in another timeline, one could hold his interest but Martín is here which means everyone else just feels inferior and insignificant. Despise not being his best work he can see his jokes and remarks are getting to the Inspector. He’s smirking at her but the next hostage is announced, the name feeling all kinds of wrong coming from Tokyo’s mouth and his lips turn into a more sincere smile, his face unable not to react to Martín’s presence.

Rio and Tokyo are too busy ogling at each other to notice but the ever-watchful police officer doesn't miss it, casting him a look from the corner of her eye before shifting to Martín. Andrés tries to coach his expression in a sterner one but the shine in his eyes is probably still there.

“Mr Berrote, how are you? Have you been treated well?” Raquel asks him a variation of the same question she did to all the other hostages. Martín’s answer, however, is nothing like the ones he has been listening all day. For once he doesn’t look frightened, scared of doing the wrong thing and end up with a bullet in his head. Instead, he looks confident, at ease, amongst his kind. Andrés almost want to pull up another chair and invite him to say and enjoy the show.

“I’m wonderful, in fact, I quite like it here, if you could hold off your interventions for a few more days I would appreciate it.” To Martín’s credit, he tries to keep his eyes focus on the Inspector but they end right back into Berlín´s face. He barely prevents the small smile tugging at his lips, but he can see both Tokyo and Raquel’s gaze going back and forth between the two. Rio is still chuckling at Martín’s joke to realize something is going on.

Raquel stands and approaches Martín and if the man feels even the slightest worried he doesn’t let it show, his smirk only getting bigger with every step the Inspector takes. Berlín stands too, not liking the unsureness he feels about the situation.

“You don’t think you should be a bit more concerned about being a hostage in the middle of a robbery?” One raised eyebrow accompanies the question and behind Martín, Tokyo grips the gun resting against her hip a little firmer.

“Not really, I like to spend time with them, you would be surprised at how interesting a thieve can be” At the end of the sentence his voice gets softer and his smile more sincere.

He can’t see the Inspector’s face from his position a little behind her but he can see the way she stands a little taller, her shoulder’s raised in an authoritative position.

“I don’t know which of them you like the most but if it’s Berlin,” she nods in his direction and Martín’s face falls a little, “you shouldn’t get to attached. Because you have what, seven months to live?” Halfway through her revelation, she turned back towards Berlín and because Tokyo and Rio are still facing Martín’s back he’s the only one to see the kaleidoscope of emotions travelling across his friend’s face.

Out of five stages of grief, only three make themselves noticeable, bargaining and acceptance are left out of the equation for now. There’s denial in the way his head slowly shake from one side to the other and in the way he glares at the Inspector for daring to lie and play with something like this. There’s anger in the way his clenched fist rest at his sides and in the way he bits the inside of his cheek. There’s depression in the way a lonely tear runs down his face and in the way his eyes cloud like a storm waiting to break out.

But overpowering everything is the confusion. It’s written all over his face as well as the all of the question’s he certainly wants to ask. _ What is going on? Why didn’t you tell earlier? Why do you keep lying to me?  _ Andrés wished he knew how to answer.

When Martín finally speaks it’s a broken sound filled with pain and doubt, tearing his heart apart it every word. 

“What is she talking about?”

Before he can say something, defended himself from the accusation laid at his feet Raquel is talking again, her tone calm and collected contrasting sharply with Martín’s.

“He has Hellmer’s Myopathy, an extremely aggressive degenerative disease, with a life expectancy of 19 to 25 months” The realization comes to Martín upon hearing the disease name, surely making the connection to his mother and the illness that took her body. Somehow that seems t make him angrier.

The Inspector keeps on talking, listing symptoms and more non-sense he doesn’t bother to listen to. He can vaguely hear Tokyo saying something over the ringing in his ears. Andrés closes his eyes for a second wishing he could just send everyone way except Martín and just hold him until all the hurt has gone away, buried under love. But the hurt only exists in the first place because of him and his cowardice. The universe had presented him with one last chance to make up for his mistakes and try and fix things and once again he had ruined everything. He had hurt Martín again, breaking the silent promise statting he would never do it again.

When he opens his eyes again the only person he wanted there is the only one who’s no longer in the hall. 

**Author's Note:**

> So this idea came to me and I just haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I hope you like this first chapter, and if you do kudos and comments are very welcomed!  
> English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes.
> 
> Also if you want to scream with me about these idiots in love:  
> Twitter- @cityofflights  
> Tumblr- awallflowerstuff


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